The Song of Igor's Campaign,
Igor son of Svyatoslav and grandson of Oleg.

Despondent
are the voices;
drooped
has merriment;
[only?] blare
the town trumpets.

Yaroslav, and all the descendants of
Vseslav!
The time has come
to lower your banners,
to sheathe your dented swords.
For you have already departed
from the ancestral glory;
for with your feuds
you started to draw the pagans
onto the Russian land,
onto the livelihood
of Vseslav.
Indeed, because of those quarrels
violence came
from the Kuman land.